She finger brushed hair behind her ear. In a tight, dark blue T shirt and jeans, she had exactly the same, compact profusion of curves Mace had always...known. The shirt turned her heavy breasts into a statement of offhand excess. Taking a sidelong glance at the vicious stretch of her V neck under their weight, he lifted his eyes to her face before she caught him gazing, only to realize she already had. He watched her mouth, hoping she’d say something soon so he could watch her lips move. It was. If she is standing or walking, the cables are pulled downwards so that her wrists rest against her nipples. There is just enough slack so that she can hold a tray or use the feather duster. To serve at the table she has to kneel down and sit on her haunches. The closer her ankles are to her little pussy, the more slack she has to move her hands around. It is a very convenient arrangement because it allows her to do most household chores but quells the little temper tantrums that plague her from. More

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